


Pop Goes The Musicology

by peachymints



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Classical Music, Fluff, Happy Ending, I'm asexual and therefore it would be quite awkward, M/M, Music, No Smut, Pining Lance (Voltron), Podcast, composer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-03-14 19:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13596465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachymints/pseuds/peachymints
Summary: Lance is the host of his own popular podcast, "Pop Goes The Musicology" on the Radio Voltron station. On this show he talks about music, pop culture, science and technology, almost everything. Nyma, who was employed by Allura, (the owner of Radio Voltron,) to compose original music for all the podcasts on the station only knows how to write punk/rock music. That is, until the station's classical music composer retires, leaving her with a chance to make more money if she figures out how to write classical music.Cue in Keith, adopted grandson of Fuyuki Shirogane, celebrated composer and conductor.or, TL;DR Keith ends up working as a composer for the radio station that Lance also works at.





	1. Chapter One

Lance opened the door to the studio like he did every morning. He stepped foot into the lobby, walking towards the front desk where Shay was sitting behind the counter.

“Good morning, Shay.” Lance said. “How’s it going?”

Shay looked up from her computer and smiled. “Well. The station has been getting lots of fan-mail lately, so I’ve been tasked with the job of organizing it all.”

“Any fan-mail for me?” he asked, barely containing his excitement. Shay playfully rolled her eyes and handed him a box filled with letters and little packages.

“Ah, thank you! I’ll make sure that Hunk buys you something pretty later!” he yelled back at her as he jogged towards his office.

Ok, so Lance called it his office, but in reality it was just a small storage room that had been reserved for him when he started working at the radio station. In the beginning, all the walls were bare and there were a ton of old records that needed to be relocated. But slowly the room started to feel more and more like home. Lance had his own little desk where he wrote the script for his show every week. On the wall to the right of the desk there was a huge bulletin board where he could keep track of all the new advancements in science and technology that he could talk about. And to his right was probably his favorite part about the entire room: the fan-mail wall. There, he taped every single letter and picture that he received.

Lance set the box down and got to work, opening each letter and package one by one, taking his time to read through them and appreciate the little gifts his listeners sent. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door which threw him out of his trance. There, with one arm leaning against the door frame, was Nyma.

She was a pretty girl. Her golden hair was permanently pulled back in two high pigtails, and she had a lean build. Nyma was also really sweet and kind, but there was something off and unsettling about her. Lance always thought it was just her eyes; they were so dark they almost looked purple.

Nyma sauntered in, smiling at Lance.

“Hey, any news on that new music?” Lance asked her. She sat down on the floor in front of him, holding up her phone.

“I just finished it.” she said proudly. “Want to listen?” Lance nodded his head eagerly and smiled as Nyma pressed play. As soon as she did, a sweet melody started playing through her phone. It started off with just a couple flutes, but slowly it builded, gaining more and more instruments every couple of seconds. There were violins, cellos, flutes, a piano, and other instruments that Lance couldn’t recognize. When the song was over, he beamed at Nyma, giving her one of his signature toothy grins.

“That was amazing!” he gushed. “How did you do it?”

“Oh please, it was easy.” answered Nyma as she stood up from the ground. “Really, it’s just your basic Mixolydian mode in g-flat.” She laughed when she caught sight of Lance’s confused face. “You have no idea what that means, do you?”

Lance shrugged. “No, not really. But if you’d let me take you out sometime, we could talk all about it over dinner?” he asked. Nyma just laughed again.

“I’ll send this track to your sound engineers” she said as she walked out of the room. Lance frowned a little to himself, but before he could think about it for too long Pidge walked into the room.

“Hey Lance, how’s the script going for your show? You know that you’re on in two hours, right?” Lance rolled his eyes at them.

“Yeah yeah, I know. Also I’ve been done with it for a day now, thank you.” Pidge smirked and went to sit down next to him.

“So, loverboy, what’s the topic of your show this week?” they asked.

Lance felt himself go all red in the face. “You heard that?” he asked, hoping they would say no. But this was Pidge.

“Oh, you bet!” the said gleefully. “That interaction just marked your 23rd attempt to ask her out.” Lance groaned, hiding his face in his sleeve, making Pidge cackle even more.

“What do you want, Pidge?” he asked, too embarrassed to look at them in the eye when he finally took his face out of the crook of his arm.

Pidge shrugged. “I was just wondering what you were gonna talk about on this week’s show.” they answered, drying the tears from their eyes. Lance opened his computer and pulled up the script.

“Well, I was thinking of comparing classical music to today’s  contemporary classical. As for my science/technology segment I wanted to talk about the super blue blood moon that’s coming, and then I’m also obviously going to talk about the upcoming Oscars, as well as the entire timeline of Kylie Jenner’s possible pregnancy and everything we know about it so far.”

“Lance, how are you gonna compare classical and contemporary classical music if you only have a basic understanding of music theory?” they asked.

“Oh shut up, Pidge. Just because I don’t know what Mixel-blah-blah-blah means doesn’t mean I can’t talk about this subject. And anyways, I had Nyma help me while I was writing this episode.” he added quietly.

“Oh yeah! That was attempt number 22, right?” Pidge asked, laughing as Lance hid his face in his arm again.

“Pidge, don’t you have something to do, like check the microphones or something? The show starts in an hour and fifty minutes.”

They stood up, yawning. “Hunk and I already checked everything. Now we’re just waiting.”

“Where’s Hunk?” asked Lance.

“Probably with his girlfriend in the lobby. You know, I be they’re talking abo-”

“Arlight Pidge! That’s enough. Seriously, how are you only fifteen?” Pidge just smirked at him again, saying nothing as they walked out the door, leaving Lance by himself.

 

…

 

Finally, almost two hours later, Lance was sitting in his beloved recording room, ready to start. He could see Hunk and Pidge on the other side of the large glass window separating them. Pidge was working the soundboard today, and Hunk was hovering over them, making sure that everything was ok. The big clock on the wall counted down the seconds before he was allowed to talk.

“Arlight buddy! You’re going live in ten, nine, eight…” Lance could hear Hunk’s voice through his headset. As soon as Hunk hit the number one, Lance started speaking into the microphone, his voice filling the small recording room.

“Hello and welcome everybody to this week’s episode of Pop Goes the Musicology! I’m your host, Lance McClain, and I’ve got a great show for you today!” Lance went on for a while, first talking about the astronomical phenomenon, then moving on to his pop culture segment. He cracked jokes, sometimes went off script, and always looked to see Pidge and Hunk laughing behind the glass window. This is why he loves his job, he thought to himself. Yeah, having his own podcast on Boston’s biggest radio station was great, but knowing that he had the power to make people laugh and be happy as well… that was even better.

“And that brings us to the end of the first part of our show folks. Stay tuned, because after commercials we’re talking about one of my favorite things, music! Remember, you’re listening to PMG on your favorite radio station, Radio Voltron!”

He glanced over at Hunk as he gave him the thumbs-up sign, signaling that commercials were on. Lance took off his headset and carefully placed them on the table before he opened the door and walked out. Commercials meant a five-minute break, and after sitting down for half an hour, a chance to walk around a little bit was nice.

“Hey man, nice show so far.” said Hunk. He slapped his best friend on the back as Lance grinned.

“Yes, I also agree that it’s a lovely show.” It was a female voice, talking with a slight British accent. Lance turned to see Allura making her way into the room.

Nyma was pretty, but Allura was beautiful. Her long, silvery hair was gorgeous in contrast to her dark skin. Her eyes were mesmerizing. They were blue, with specks of purple floating around her iris.

Lance stood there, staring at her with his mouth slightly open. Being the owner of Radio Voltron, she was always hidden in her office, so Lance rarely got to see her. But when he did… wow.

Hunk smiled sheepishly and elbowed Lance. He shook his head, trying to regain his composure, and hoping that Allura didn’t notice he was staring.

“Allura! What brings you here to this side of the building?” he asked.

“I’m just going around, making sure that everyone is doing their job.” she said. “How’s that composer girl we hired four months ago?”

“Nyma? Oh, she’s great! She always composes a new piece for me every week, and I always use her songs in my shows.” Lance said.

Allura clasped her hands in front of her and smiled. “Oh good, I’m glad. You see, we hired her to write some rock songs for Rolo’s podcast, but ever since Steve retired, we hadn’t been able to find someone to write more classical pieces. Luckily Nyma stepped in, so I’m happy to know that she’s doing well with this type of music. You know, when we first hired her she said that she had only ever written punk/rock type of music.” Before Lance could answer, Pidge gave him the one minute warning. He looked over at Allura, saying that they’d continue talking later, and walked back into the recording room.

Hunk started the countdown, and when he got to one Lance opened his mouth to welcome back the listeners. Throughout the segment, Lance played portions of music composed by your typical Mozart and Beethoven, as well as some modern composers like Yiruma and Sofia Gubaidulina, peppering in some pieces written by Nyma herself. Halfway through the segment, the phone inside the room started ringing.

“A caller!” Lance exclaimed as he picked up the phone. “Hello, welcome to PMG. I’m your host Lance McClain, and you are now live! What’s your name?”

Lance felt the caller hesitate for a split second, before the voice on the other end awkwardly said “Keith.”

“Hello, Keith! What are you calling for?”

The person on the other end hesitated again, but this time when they spoke they spoke with more confidence.

“I was just wondering… if I wanted to send fan-mail, what address would I send it to?”

Lance looked over and Hunk and Pidge as he answered, as if to say _see? I’m popular._

“So Keith, what were you thinking of sending me? A letter? A picture? Maybe even a little gift?” Lance inquired.

“Uh, it’s definitely something unexpected.” Keith said, and then they hung up the phone. Lance shrugged, but he didn’t think too much about it. Weird people called his show all the time so this didn’t faze him too much.

When his show ended, he walked out of the recording room and high-fived Hunk and Pidge as they started to put things away. Another successful show, he thought to himself. When they were done packing, the three of them got their jackets and then walked into the main lobby together. Every Saturday when his show was over, Lance, Hunk and Pidge always went to get a celebratory lunch together. Sometimes, Hunk would try and convince Shay to come as well. This was one of those days. Lance and Pidge were sitting on the couch together, sending each other memes as Hunk was talking to Shay. Everything was completely normal. Until, suddenly, a boy with a mop of dark hair on his head opened the doors, letting in a wave of cold January air. He was wearing a faded jean jacket with a white shirt underneath. His black jeans were all ripped, and his combat boots were covered in snow.

“How is he not freezing?” murmured Pidge under their breath as they watched this mysterious boy make his way over to the front desk. Lance stood up instinctively and walked over to where Hunk and Shay were talking to this boy, both of them looking mildly concerned.

“What’s the matter?” asked Lance when he got there. The boy turned to face Lance, his face angry.

“Are you Lance?” he asked, his voice sounding familiar.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

The boy took a deep breath, steadying himself, then looked at Lance dead in the eye before continuing.

“My name is Keith, and you’re stealing my music, asshole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This is my first fanfiction, so feel free to give me constructive criticism. I know this chapter was a little slow, but I needed it to set the scene. I hope you enjoy the story! Also my tumblr url is @peachy-mints as well if you wanna stop by and say hi or send me messages :)


	2. Chater 2

Lance took a step back. “What do you mean I’m stealing your music?” he asked defensively.

“I mean exactly that! And actually, you’ve been stealing my music for the past two months!” Keith said, flailing his arms.

“No I didn’t!” yelled Lance, starting to get agitated. “Everytime I play music on my shows I always give credit! And anyways, I only play good music on my show!”

Keith looked baffled. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he yelled. Lance took a deep breath, never breaking eye contact.

“I mean that I would never play music written by some greasy hobo such as you!” Behind them, Lance could hear both Hunk and Shay gasp, but Keith remained stolid. Before either of them could continue, Allura’s voice interrupted them, prompting both of the boys to look her way.

“Lance, what is going on here?” she asked. He looked over at Keith, but for the first time in five minutes the other boy’s gaze was somewhere else. Keith sighed slightly and walked over to Allura calmly, as if he hadn’t been screaming at the top of his lungs five seconds ago. 

“You must be Ms.Altea, the owner of this station.” Allura smiled at him. 

“You are correct. What’s your name?”

“Keith.”

“Keith. Right, well why don’t you step into my office and we’ll chat for a while.” She turned around and started walking away, without looking back to see if Keith was following. He quickly blew Lance a raspberry and quickened his pace in order to walk side-to-side with Allura, when suddenly she stopped in her tracks, causing him to bump into her. 

“Actually, Lance, why don’t you come with us. From what I heard this conversation concerns you as well.” Lance could see Keith roll his eyes from where he stood. “Of course.” he said, as he followed Allura and Keith into her office.

Once there, Lance and Keith were forced to sit next to each other on one side of the desk as she sat on the other, looking at both of them disapprovingly. 

“First of all, I just want to say that getting into an argument in the lobby is not the best way to handle things. Lance, you know that you should always call me if there is a problem.” Lance didn’t make eye contact with her. This “chat” was beginning to feel more and more like a trip to the principal’s office from back in elementary school.

Allura turned to Keith. “Now, start from the beginning please. And speak calmly.” she added, seeing the face he made at Lance.

Keith smirked, but remained composed as he told his story. “You see, yesterday my motorcycle broke down, so I sent it in to get repaired. This morning I needed to go to the library, so I took my brother’s car. He really likes your radio station, and anyways, I don’t know how to change it, so I ended up listening to Lance’s show. For a while, everything was fine, until he got to the segment comparing contemporary classical and classical music, at which point I realized he was playing my music as an example. So I waited for him to say something about the artist, but he never said my name. All he did was credit some person named Nyma. Anyways, after that happened, I looked back at some of his older episodes and I discovered that for the past two months, he’s been using my music and saying that it’s written by the same Nyma as before.” Keith crossed his legs and put one elbow on the desk before continuing. “So I called in to find out the address of the station, and here we are.” Allura slowly nodded her head before turning to Lance.

“How long has Nyma been composing for your show?” she asked, one eyebrow raised.

“For about two months.” Lance said, realization slowly dawning on him.

“Well then, case closed.” Allura said, smiling. “You see, four months ago I hired a girl named Nyma to compose original rock music for another show.” she explained to Keith. 

“Earlier we had a guy named Steve compose classical music for shows such as Lance’s, but two months ago he retired. I asked Nyma if she was willing to try writing classical music, rather than look for a new composer, so I guess some of this is my fault.” she said, blushing slightly. 

“But I still don’t understand. Why did she steal my music?” Keith asked. Allura shrugged. “I’m sure she has her reasons. Lance, why don’t you go find her and bring her here? I’d like to talk with her as well.”

“Right.” Lance stood from his chair and slowly walked out of the room. As he closed the door behind him, he heard the two whispering. 

It was 2 p.m., meaning that Nyma was probably with Rolo in the recording studio, working on some new music for his show. Lance walked in, and sure enough there they were. Rolo was inside the recording booth, playing the drums, while Nyma was outside, listening with her headphones. Lance tapped her on the shoulder, and she lazily turned around to look at him.

“What do you want?” she asked without taking her headphones off. “I’m working.”

“Allura wants to see you.” At that, she perked up and slid her headphones down so that they hung around her neck. 

“Do you know what for?” she asked. Lance shrugged. 

“Some guy named Keith came in and claimed you’re stealing his music.” Nyma quietly swore under her breath before fully taking her headphones off. The two of them walked together to Allura’s office, Nyma dragging her feet behind her. When they got there, Lance opened the door for her and they both walked in, taking their seats across the desk from Allura. 

“Nyma. You must be wondering why you’re here.” Allura said, voice slightly unkind. Nyma just stood silent. 

“This here is Keith,” Allura continued. “While Lance went to fetch you, he showed me some of the music that he wrote and posted online three years ago, well before you started working here. Keith, would you mind playing this one? It’s quite lovely.” Keith obeyed, pressing play on Allura’s laptop. Music started filling the room, one instrument at a time. First, there were flutes. Then the song slowly builded, adding more and more instruments every second. Lance recognized this piece as the same one that Nyma showed him that morning.

“Keith, just out of curiosity, when was this song published to your social media accounts?” asked Allura.

“This one was published two years ago.” answered Keith, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“Nyma, you said you spent all week writing this song for my show today,” said Lance, incredulous. “Why did you lie?”

She let out a breath. “Because, I have no idea how to write this kind of music!” she started. “When Allura came to me after Steve retired, she said I’d get a raise in my salary if I could write classical music as well, and I’m a college student! What the hell was I supposed to do, pass up on the offer? So I did some digging and I found Keith, and I said to myself, ‘huh, this guy is very unknown. No one will notice if I use his music!’ Obviously, I was wrong.” 

“I’ll have you know that I’m not ‘unknown’” replied Keith indignantly. “I have an average of 1,500 monthly listeners on Spotify!”

“Regardless, what you did is illegal, Nyma. It’s called plagiarism, and it’s something that I take very seriously.” said Allura, cutting in. 

“Please don’t take me to trial!” Nyma cried. “I’ll do anything to make it up to you, I promise. But I can’t go to trial!” she buried her face in her hands. 

“Lucky for you, Keith has been gracious enough to decide not to do that. Instead, you’re just fired. Effective immediately.” Nyma blinked.

“That’s all?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Unless you  _ want  _ him to take you to trial.” Nyma quickly shook her head.

“No, of course not. Thank you.” She stood up and walked towards the door, but before she could leave Keith spoke. 

“Be warned.” he said. “This is just your first warning. If you continue to steal my music or do it ever again, next time I won’t hesitate.” The two locked eyes for a second, before she disappeared out of the room. 

“Now what are you going to do?” asked Lance. “Lots of podcasts need original music, not just my own. How are you going to find another composer to take her place?” Allura smiled. 

“Luckily for everyone, I offered Keith the position. It’s only fair, really, since he was even kind enough to not pursue legal action against anyone here.” 

Lance was shocked. “Wait, you’re gonna hire him, just like that? I mean, he’s already proven to be able to write classical music, but what if he can’t write rock music? Huh? Are we just gonna have another repeat of what just happened?” Lance saw Keith roll his eyes.

“Besides knowing how to play violin, piano, and flute, I also know how to play guitar and bass. Back in middle school, my brother and I had a band, where we exclusively played rock music from the 80s and 90s. I have also composed a couple pieces for various local rock bands,  _ and  _ if you’re still not convinced, I also have a lot of original punk/rock music that is on all my social media for the world to see. In short, I think I’m qualified.” Keith got up from his chair and walked out, the implication of a mic drop hanging in the air all around him. 

Lance turned to Allura. “I can’t work with him.” he said.

“And why not?” asked Allura, smiling. 

“I called him a greasy hobo!” he cried. “Keith probably doesn’t like me. How am I supposed to work with him now?”

Allura raised her eyebrow, a smile still plastered on her face. “Just apologize, Lance. He’s not as bad as you think he is.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I've just been really busy with school lately. Anyways, I know this chapter was super short, but things should start picking up the pace soon! I hope you enjoyed it!  
> Also if you wanna say hi my tumblr is @peachy-mints


	3. Chapter 3

“Lance, just go.”

“Pidge, I can’t do it!”

It was 5 p.m. on a relatively warm Monday afternoon. It had been two days since Nyma got fired, and it had been two days since Lance refused to talk to Keith. Now, standing twenty feet away from him, Lance held two coffees in his hands as Pidge pushed him forward. 

“You’ll be fine.” they said. “Just apologize.”

“It’s not as easy as you think it is!” protested Lance. Pidge stopped trying to shove him and looked at him square in the eye. “Look Lance,” they started. “I’m not asking you to become best friends with this guy. All I’m saying is that you need to apologize  _ now,  _ because sooner or later you’re going to need to work with him for your show.”

“What if I just write my own music instead?” he asked, giving Pidge a small smile, but they just rolled their eyes and started shoving him again. “There’s a reason you’re majoring in marine biology and not music composition, Lance. Now go!” As they said this, they gave Lance one last shove, hurling him forward a couple steps. As he bumped into the desk where Keith was working, the other boy quizzically looked up from his computer. 

“What do you want?” he asked, taking off his headphones. His voice wasn’t unkind, but the look on his face wasn’t very promising either. Lance cleared his throat.

“I got you a coffee.” he said, holding out one hand. Keith looked at the cup in his hands skeptically, as if Lance might have poisoned it, but much to Lance’s surprise he took it.

“I don’t know how you like your coffee, so I just got it black. I also brought some cream and sugar packets just in case you want them. Unless of course you drink your coffee black, then you don’t need those!” Lance was rambling and he knew it, but he couldn't help it. He did that when he was nervous, and now standing in front of Keith, knowing that soon he would have to apologize, made him very nervous. 

Keith regarded him carefully before taking a sip of his coffee. “Black is my favorite, actually.” he said, a small smile on his face. Lance smiled back, suddenly feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. 

“So… I’m sorry about calling you a greasy hobo the other day. I don’t really mean it.” Lace said. Keith started laughing. The tips of Lance’s ears burned red.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve been called worse.” Keith said. He took another sip of his coffee and put his headphones back on, a smile still lingering on his lips.  _ Great.  _ Lance thought.  _ Now what?  _ Lance stood there for a while longer before finally deciding to leave, but just as he turned around Keith said his name. 

“Lance, are you doing anything important right now?” he asked. Lance turned back around to see that Keith’s eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes still glued to his screen. 

“No, why do you ask?” Lance inquired as he went around the table to stand next to the other boy. 

“I’ve been working on this song for ages but I’m stuck. Can you give it a listen for me?” Lance nodded his head and accepted the headphones that Keith handed to him. As Keith pressed play, a chorus of violins and cellos filled his ears. The music started out soft but gradually grew and grew, the melody sweet and the harmonies light. But just as suddenly as the music started, it ended abruptly. Lance looked down at Keith and took off the headphones once he realized Keith was talking to him.

“I’m not quite sure where to go next in the song.” Keith said. “I  _ could  _ go to the diminished seventh here if I really wanted to, but the question is, do I? Those tend to sound a bit twangy. Oh, and it also depends on my melody. See, I just don’t know if I want to make this part soft again, or if I want it to be really loud… I don’t know, what do you think?” He looked over at Keith expectantly. Lance blinked at him a couple of times, his mouth agape. 

“I’m sorry, but what did any of that mean?” he asked. Instead of responding, Keith turned back to his screen and sighed. Lance stood there for two minutes as Keith talked to himself underneath his breath. Finally Keith broke the silence.

“Follow me, Lance.” he said. He stood up from his chair and walked away, turning around once to make sure that Lance was following him. 

“Where are we going?”

“Oh, just to my recording studio.” Keith snickered as he said it. 

“What do you mean? There’s three recording studios in this building, but all of them are used for the podcasts.” said Lance, confused. 

“That’s where you’re wrong.” answered Keith as he started walking down a staircase Lance didn’t even know existed. “Allura explained to me that when her father first built this place, he added an extra recording studio in the basement, just in case. But no one uses it today because it’s not as nice as the others. Now it’s mainly used as a storage closet, but Allura told me I could use it.” He stopped in front of an old-looking recording room. Sure enough, there was a little bit of everything in there: towers of boxes, filing cabinets, even what looked to be decades-old clothes. Keith took out a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. As soon as he did, a strong, musty smell hit both of them like a slap to the face. Waving his hand in front of his face, Keith stepped in first and turned on the lights. Lance walked in after him, taking in the sight. Now that the lights were on, he could see that the place didn’t look as bad as he had originally thought. Keith walked up to a large, black bag and unzipped it to uncover an acoustic guitar. The body was red and it had a black neck. Lance could tell that it was old because of all the scratches on it, and the fading polish. 

“This is from when I was young,” Keith started. “It’s old, but trustworthy. I never use it anymore, so I thought I’d just stash it here.” He sat down on the floor and looked expectantly at Lance, who was still waiting in the doorway. He patted the ground next to him, signaling that Lance should sit down. Lance did as he was told, and soon enough they were sitting across from each other, 

“Ok, so this is how the song goes.” Keith played what he showed to Lance upstairs on his guitar, somehow managing to play all of the parts. “Now tell me which ending you like better.” Again, Keith played the same song as before but with an ending that was short and sweet, a perfect match to the rest of the song. Next he played an ending that was tense and didn’t resolve for a bit, but it made the song sound much more interesting than the first ending.

“So, what do you think?” he asked. “Which ending do you prefer?”

Lance shook his head and smiled. “Those were both great, Keith.” 

Keith rolled his eyes. “I’m flattered, but that’s not helpful.” Lance thought silently for a minute. “Well, what’s the mood of the script? I think you want an ending that matches the emotions of the podcast, you know?”

Keith reflected for a couple of seconds. “Well, if I remember correctly, in this part they’re talking about their new puppy…” He trailed off, lost in thought.

“Well, if that’s the case, I would go with the first ending.” Lance replied. 

“Yeah, but it doesn’t really seem right. I’m not sure.” He looked up at Lance. 

“You know what? Why don’t you take a break. Maybe some time off will do you good.” Lance stood up and whipped out his phone. “Let’s have a little dance break or something. Those always help me focus. What kind of music are you into?” 

“Oh, I don’t dance.” he replied. “How about you tell me what song to play on this guitar and then  _ you  _ can dance?” 

“That’s not as fun.” said Lance. “Alright, let’s do this: you play and I’ll sing. Ok?” Keith scratched the back of his neck. “I guess so.”

“Perfect! Let’s see… I’m sure you know Hotel California by the Eagles?” Keith chuckled.

“I know that song like the back of my hand.” As he played the intro, Lance prepared himself. 

“ _ On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair/Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air/ Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light/ My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim/ I had to stop for the night/ There she stood in the doorway/ I heard the mission bell/ And I was thinking to myself/ ‘This could be Heaven or this could be Hell’”.  _ Lance looked over at Keith as he was singing, and he saw that the other boy had a smile plastered all over his face. As the song went on, Keith improvised during the guitar solos, and he hit his guitar to sound like a drum. Approximately six minutes later both of them were panting and exhausted, but still smiling nonetheless. 

“Where’d you learn to sing like that?” asked Keith. “You’re really good.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.  I have lots of siblings and small nieces/nephews, so I get a lot of practice. The real question is, how did you learn to  _ play  _ like that? You were amazing!” Keith shrugged him off. 

“My grandfather is a composer/conductor, so growing up I learned to play lots of different instruments.”

“Is your grandfather the reason why you’re a composer too?” Lance asked.

“Yes.” Keith answered frankly. “I really looked up to him, growing up. In a way, he saved my life, you know? So I thought that the best way to honor him would be to carry on his craft.” Keith put the guitar down.

“I must say, you’re nothing like what I expected you to be.” Lance declared. Keith turned to face him suddenly. “What do you mean?” he asked, almost scowling. 

“Not in a bad way!” interjected Lance quickly. “I just mean that when I first met you you were so  _ angry.  _ Oh, and then you were wearing all these clothes that made you seem like a ‘bad boy’, like the kind that you see on television.” Keith frowned at him. “But today was really wonderful because I was scared that you weren’t going to accept my apology, or that you might but you wouldn’t be so nice. Instead, you’re like a great person. I mean, I know that I haven’t even known you for a full day yet, but you’re cool.” he added hastily. 

“I’m...cool?”

“Yeah. Like, you’re really nice. I like you.”

Keith looked as if he were about to say something when he abruptly picked the guitar back up again and played the song that he had written, but this time with an entirely different ending that lance hadn’t heard before. 

“This is it!” Keith shouted joyfully. “This is it. I found it.” He turned to look at Lance. “You must be my muse!” He laughed, half to himself and half with Lance. The other boy opened his mouth but was cut off when they heard footsteps coming down the stairs. 

“Is anyone there?” a familiar voice called. Lance walked out of the recording room to see Hunk carrying a couple boxes. 

“Hey Hunk, what’s up?” he asked. 

“Allura just asked me to bring these boxes down here. What are you doing?”

“I was just helping Keith finish writing his song.” He turned around and motioned to Keith to come forward and say hi. Keith reluctantly got off the floor and walked to stand beside Lance.

“Hey Keith!” Hunk said, voice warm and welcoming as always. Keith muttered a greeting back. “Hey, you know what? Rolo was looking for you upstairs.” Hunk announced. “He said he wanted to talk to you about the music you composed for his show this week?” Keith shook his head and muttered underneath his breath before walking up the basement stairs. Once he was gone, Lance turned to Hunk. “I promise he’s actually really nice.”

“Yeah? Well I should hope so. You guys spent two hours down here.”

“What?!” asked Lance, bewildered. “How did that even happen?” Hunk shrugged.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not like you have any actual work to do.” he winked at Lance just as they heard a loud sound coming from upstair followed by some screaming. The two boys bounded up the stairs to find Rolo and Keith caught in a fistfight. Or, more accurately, to find Rolo punching Keith while he did almost nothing to protect himself from the other boy’s punches. 

“This is all your fault, you asshole!” Lance heard Rolo scream. “You selfish sonuvabitch. Why did you have to say anything?” Keith suffered another blow to the face. 

“Stop it!” yelled Hunk, already moving to get in between the two. Lance unfroze from his position and went to hold back Rolo as he could hear Allura coming to break up the mess.

“What the hell is happening here? Is this a professional workplace or a wrestling ring?” She sounded really mad, her voice big and her hands on her hips. 

“I-fucking-QUIT.” yelled Rolo, struggling to get free from Hunk and Lance’s grasp. “Let me go, you fucking morons!” he screamed at the two boys holding him back. Giving each other a weary look, they let him go from their clasp. Rolo took a step towards Allura and pointed a crooked finger at her face. “I hope you’re proud of yourself for the injustice you’ve done to Nyma. You know Allura, I never would’ve really pegged you as the ‘back-stabbing bitch’ type, but here we are.”

Without flinching, Allura crossed her arms. “Get. Out. Of. My. Building. Before. I. Call. The. Cops.” she said. Giving one last glare at Keith, Rolo grabbed his bag and walked out. Allura then turned her attention to Keith. 

“Keith, are you alright?” she asked. 

“His eyebrow his bleeding pretty heavily.” Lance noted.

“I’ll get some paper towels.” Hunk shouted as he ran out of the room.

“I’ll go get the bandages.” announced Allura, leaving the two of them alone. 

“It’s not that big of a deal.” Keith said, staring at the blood on his hands.

“Not that big of a deal? Keith, you’re gonna need stitches. He got you pretty badly.” 

Hunk and Allura both entered at the same time. First they cleaned up the wound as best as they could, and then Allura carefully wrapped a bandage around his head. 

“C’mon Keith, I’m taking you to the hospital.” Lance said. Keith tried to shake his head, but the others wouldn’t let him get away. Finally, they convinced Keith to get in Lance’s car, and soon enough they were on their way to the emergency room. 

“Keith, you know you could probably press charges against Rolo if you wanted to.” Lance said. The other boy shook his head. 

“What’s the point? Pressing charges won’t do anything for me.”

‘Can you at least tell me why you didn’t try to protect yourself? Why didn’t you punch him back or something?”

Keith shrugged. “Fighting back just makes them angrier. It’s better to just let them get it all out.”

They spent the rest of the car ride in silence. Once at the ER, Keith called his older brother as they waited for their turn. Finally, one of the nurses called Keith’s name and she led him away from the waiting room. Lance decided to stay, just in case. At one point, a tall, muscular man walked into the ER, looking around. He went to talk to one of the nurses, and she motioned to the empty seat next the Lance’s. The man looked defeated as he sat down. Up close, Lance realized that this man had black hair with a tuft of white at the top. A very unusual hairstyle, but for some reason it was familiar. Suddenly, it dawned on him where he had seen this man before.

“I’m sorry, but are you Shiro?” he asked politely. The man turned to look at Lance and smiled.

“Yes, I am. I’m sorry, but have we met before?” Lance started laughing.

“No, we’ve never met. But you’re Matt’s friend, right? I know his younger sibling.”

“Oh, you mean Pidge? Wait a minute, you must be Lance, then!” The two laughed some more and started a conversation about the Holt siblings when Lance finally asked him what he was doing at the ER.

“Oh, my brother is here. Apparently he got into a fistfight and is now getting stitches.” Shiro shook his head.

“Is your brother Keith, by any chance?” Lance inquired.

“Yes! Oh, you must be the nice kid that drove Keith here.”

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Friends?” asked Shiro. But before Lance could respond, Keith was walking up to them, a giant bandage on his forehead. 

“Hey,” he said in Shiro’s direction. He gave Lance a small smile. “Ok, I’m ready to go home now.” he said in Siro’s direction. Shiro chuckled as he rolled his eyes.

“Lance, would you like to cme over for a few drinks as a thank you for forcing him to come here?” asked Shiro good-naturedly. 

Lance smiled. “I’d love to, but I think I need to decline. It’s getting late and I have class tomorrow in the morning.”

Shiro nodded. “Alright then. Thanks again, Lance. See you around.” Keith gave Lance a small wave and then they both walked out of the ER. 

Lance stood there for a while longer, thinking about the day and it’s strange events. He thought about how quickly Keith warmed up to him, and how he’s not as bad as he seems. He thought about Rolo, specifically how much of a dick he was. And then he thought again about Keith, how he didn’t fight back. Lance picked up all of his things and he too walked out of the ER to be greeted with the coolness of the night.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm sorry that took such a long time! I couldn't write for a while because I was drowning in schoolwork but I should be able to add chapters more frequently now. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and as always PLEASE like/comment. Constructive criticism is welcome!


	4. Chapter 4

It felt like this script was the longest one that Lance had ever written. It took him twice as long to write it than usual, and he didn’t know why. It’s not as if he was talking about something that required lots of research or whatnot; and yet, this script took an excruciating amount of time to finish.

“It’s only because you were so distracted this week.” says Pidge when Lance mentioned this. “You kept hanging out with your boyfriend instead of doing real work.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Lance scowled. “And besides, where is he? I need to talk to him.”

“Why, you wanna make out with him?” Pidge teased. Lance just sighed and shook his head.

“No, I need to talk to him about the music for this week. I’m finally done with this stupid script, so I need to meet with him now if I want everything to be ready by showtime on Friday.”

Pidge just shrugged. “I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen him since his fight with Rolo two days ago.”

“So does this mean that he’s been home for the past two days? What about all the music he’s supposed to write for everyone?” Lance asked.

“Don’t worry so much, Lance, otherwise you’ll go bald.” Lance turned around to see Allura leaning on the wall behind him. “I told him that it was fine if he didn’t want to finish writing the music for this week, since he had stitches two days ago, but he told me that he’d be working at home and communicating with everyone via email.” Allura walked up to stand next to Lance and Pidge. “He’s tough, I’ll give him that.” she said.

“Well, when’s he getting back?” asked Lance.

“Monday. I wanted to give him more time off to make sure that the stitches healed a bit before bringing him back here, but he insisted on coming back as soon as possible. Finally I agreed to let him come back on Monday.” Allura shrugged.

“Ok. Well, since that’s the case, I guess I’ll go send him an email now.” Lance left and walked back to his office, feeling slightly defeated. He wanted to see Keith and work on this music face-to-face, but he guessed that this would have to suffice for this week. He sat down at his desk and wrote the email. He then proceeded to rest his chin on the desk, never looking away from his email, hoping that he would instantly receive a reply. _Talking face-to-face is much better than this,_ he thought to himself. Lance stayed in that position for about 10 minutes, when finally he got up and started walking around is small office.

“There’s nothing to do here!” he thought out loud. After roaming around for another five minutes, he figured that he would go see what Hunk and Pidge were doing. But the two of them were running around, trying to fix technical issues and set up microphones, and they did not appreciate Lance following them around like that. Defeated, Lance went back to his office and opened up his email, hoping to have gotten a notification, but nothing. Just as he was about to bang his forehead on his desk in sheer boredom, his phone buzzed.

_Text from ***-***-****_

_This number is not in your Contacts._

_Hey Lance! This is Shiro. Are you doing anything at the moment? Right now Keith and I are n the process of moving his stuff to his new apartment, and we could really use some help. Could you stop by? The address is 25 Highland Way. Thanks!_

Lance immediately perked up. Rushing to put everything in his messenger bag, he texted back.

_To Beefcake_

_I’m on my way!_

Making his way out the door as fast as possible, he saw Allura talking to Shay by the front desk. “Allura! I’m going out to meet Keith. I’ll see you tomorrow!” he said as he whizzed past her, leaving no room for her to argue with him. Lance got on the bus, and within 20 minutes he was standing in front of the address that Shiro gave him. It was a small house with two windows facing front and a red door. The front lawn was covered in unruly grass and weeds, as well as what looked to be dead flower plants. Lance rang the doorbell, and soon enough Shiro opened the door and welcomed him in.

“Hey, Lance!” he said as he took Lance’s coat. “Please excuse the house at the moment, as you know we’re in the middle of moving, so everything is a little crazy.” Lance looked up at the towers of boxes and scattered furniture in the living room.

“Oh, are you moving out of this house as well?” asked Lance.

“Yeah. This house belonged to my fiancés grandparents, but both of them died recently so now we’re all moving out. Adam really loved them, and it’s become too difficult to stay here for him, so the two of us are moving next week to a house we bought in the outskirts of the city, and Keith is moving to an apartment that’s closer to his university.”

“Oh, I see. I’m sorry about your fiancés grandparents.”

Shiro chuckled. “Don’t be! It’s not like you killed them!” Lance gave Shiro a half smile.

“Speaking of your fiancé, where is he?” Shiro looked up at the clock on the wall.

“He was helping Keith bring some boxes over to his apartment. Let’s see, they left about an hour ago, so they should be getting back pretty soon.” As soon as Shiro finished saying that, the door opened and in walked in a smiling Keith alongside a man that looked to be around Shiro’s age.

“Hey Lance!” said Keith as soon as he spotted the other boy. Lance greeted him with a smile and a wave.

“Oh, you must be Lance. I’m Adam.” The older man walked towards him with his hand outstretched. The two shook hands. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Adam, come help with dinner.” Shiro yelled from the kitchen area. Adam gave Lance one last smile and then he parted. Lance looked over and Keith. “What is it?” he asked. “You’re staring at me.”

“I wasn’t staring,” insisted the black-haired boy. “I’m just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

“Nothing that concerns you.” Keith smiled as he plopped down on the couch.

“How are the stitches?” Lance asked. Keith touched the stitches on his forehead.

“They’re fine. They don’t really hurt anymore. In fact, I wanted to come in today but Allura wouldn’t let me.”

“Yeah, she mentioned that” Lance said with a chuckle. “Are you sure that you should be doing all this heavy-lifting right now? You should probably take it slow.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “You’re starting to sound like a mom. And besides, I’ve had men stronger than me doing the heavy lifting all day.” he smiled at Lance.

“Speaking of, are there any more boxes we should drive over today?”

Keith sighed, then stood up. “Yeah, I guess so. Let’s go, then.” Lance and Keith filled the moving truck with the remaining boxes. Before they left, Keith called out to Shiro and told him to not wait for them to get back to have dinner. They got in the car, Keith in the driver’s seat, and they got going.

“Y’know, I never really like driving cars.” Keith said.

“Oh? Then what do you drive?”

“A motorcycle.” Keith glanced over at Lance for just a second, but it was enough to see the sparkle in his eyes.

“You ride a motorcycle?” Lance asked. “Honestly, I’m not surprised.”

Keith laughed. “I can take you for a spin sometime, if you’d like. We can even make a cheesy rom-com moment out of it.”

“What do you mean?” the other boy asked, smiling.

“Oh, you know what I mean. I’ll show up with my motorcycle and my badass leather jacket. I’ll tell you to hop on, but obviously the only way for you to stay on would be to hold on to me. Then as we’re riding through the night, some cheesy love song will play in your head as you realize that you’re utterly in love with me.” Keith looked over at Lance again, smiling.

“I think you watch too many movies. If you’re gonna make me fall in love with you, the way to my heart is through good food.” Lance responded. Both of them laughed at the thought. Finally, when the laughter died down, Lance looked at Keith and asked: “So, will you actually give me a ride on your bike one day?” Keith shrugged.

“Sure,” he started. “As long as you don’t fall in love with me.”

Lance was about to say something when Keith stopped the car.

“We’re here.” he said. Lance looked at him, dumbfounded.

“What’re you staring at?” Keith asked.

“Are you going to live in this apartment building?”

“Well, yeah, otherwise I wouldn’t have brought all my stuff here.”

“Keith… I live in this apartment too!” Lance said excitedly. “Do you think that we’re going to be neighbors? The girl living next door moved out a couple weeks ago, is that where you’re going to be living? What floor are you on, anyways?”

“Third.” he said, speechless.

“No way! I live on the third floor as well! Do you know what this means?” Before Keith could answer, Lance went on. “Friday movie nights! We can have sleepovers and do facemasks together! Oh, this is so exciting!”

Keith’s shocked expression turned to amusement. “Huh. I guess now there’s no way to run away from you, is there?” Lance playfully punched him in the shoulder.

“Oh come on, Keith, you love me and you’re just as excited about this as I am.” Keith smiled and shook his head.

“C’mon Lance, help me bring the boxes up.”

*****

An hour and a half later, all of the boxes were finally brought up to Keith’s apartment. The two unboxed a couple pillows and made a makeshift table by using one of the larger boxes. As Keith made them some ramen, Lance was on his phone, looking over his script.

“Hey, watcha looking at?” asked Keith, putting the two bowls on the cardboard table.

“I’m just going my script for this week’s show.” Lance answered. Keith smacked himself in the face with his palm.

“Shit! I was supposed to work on music today!” he exclaimed.

“Don’t worry about it, you’ve still got all of tomorrow. I’m sure you can do it.” encouraged Lance.

“Are you gonna be at the studio tomorrow? If I’m going to write three songs in one day I need my muse to be there.” Keith said jokingly. Lance picked up his spoon and flung some broth at the other boy.

“Careful! I don’t know in which box my clothes are, so I need this shirt to remain as clean as possible.” Keith exclaimed.

“Wait, you’re not thinking of sleeping in that shirt and then wearing it again tomorrow, are you?” asked Lance. Keith shrugged.

“Most likely I’ll sleep shirtless, and then I’ll just wear it again tomorrow.” Lance pretended to puke.

“No way in hell am I allowing you to do that.” he said. “Tomorrow morning just come over to my apartment and I’ll let you borrow one of mine. I’m literally right next door.”

“Ok, fine.”

Lance tried unsuccessfully to pick up the noodles with his chopsticks, before he decided that to just eat everything with the spoon instead. “Why’d you move out, anyways? I mean, I know why Shiro and Adam are leaving, but what about you?” Keith looked up from his ramen.

“Well, my options were to stay in that house, go live with my brother again, or get a different place. The taxes on the house were too high for me to pay for myself, and besides, the house was too big for just one person. I definitely didn’t want to live with Adam and Shiro, so I just got my own place.”

"Why don’t you want to live your brother?” Lance inquired.

“He and Adam are getting married soon. They’ll want to start a family in that house, and I don’t want to become a burden for them. Besides, with my own place I can I have all the privacy I want.” answered Keith.

“What, you just didn’t want to bring any girlfriends home because you were afraid that someone would walk in on you?” Lance joked.

“Close. I’m gay, so no girlfriends, but the same principle applies.”

Lance almost choked on his noodles. “You’re gay?”

“Yeah, have a problem with that?” Keith asked defensively.

Lance’s eyes widened. “That’s not what I meant! I just wasn’t expecting that. I’m bi, so it’s all good.”

Keith relaxed. Both of them went back to eating their ramen, when Keith’s phone buzzed.

“Shit, it’s already midnight. I need to go back.” Keith said, cursing under his breath.

“What’s the matter? Can’t you sleep here?”

“No, all the furniture is supposed to come in Tuesday. I need to go back home.” Keith stood up to stretch his legs.

“Well, you could crash at my place if you wanted.” Lance offered. “I have an extra pair of clean sheets to put on the couch.” Keith smiled at him.

“Thanks, buddy.”

The two of them quickly washed the dishes, then went over to Lance’s place, where they both fell asleep on the couch together as the sound of Nina Simone singing on the record player lulled them deeper and deeper into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAHHH. Ok not gonna lie but one of the biggest reasons why I haven't updated in a long time is because I just didn't like this fic anymore, but my love for it has been rekindled! As always I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. If you ever wanna say hello on tumblr you can catch me at @peachy-mints (main blog) or @sunflowerhazel (art/fandoom blog.) Have a good day!


	5. Chapter 5

The two boys awoke to an awful ringing noise coming from Keith’s phone. Still groggy, the older boy picked it up and turned off the alarm. He rubbed his eyes and sat up straight, stretching his arms as he yawned. Lance looked over at him from the other side of the couch with a frown.

“What’s wrong?” asked Keith.

“It’s early.” said Lance, voice quiet and soft with sleep.

Keith smiled at him. “It’s only 6 a.m.” Lance groaned as he sat up straight, and looked at Keith dead in the eye.

“Why do you get up so early? Don’t your classes start at 10?” he asked.

“Well, yeah, but I like to go for a jog in the morning. It helps me wake up.”

Just then, looking at each other from opposite sides of the couch, did the two of them realize that they fell asleep there together. Hiding his face with his hand, Lance quickly got up and went towards the kitchen. Embarrassed, Keith didn’t know what to do, so he sat there until the wonderful scent of coffee beckoned him towards the kitchen. Still yawning and rubbing his eyes with one hand, Lance was sitting at the table, slowly drinking his cup. When he saw Keith coming in, he motioned to the other side of the table, where another cup was waiting for him. Keith sat down and took a sip, letting the rich taste sit his mouth for a second before he swallowed.

“So, you jog in the mornings?” Lance asked, considerably much more awake-sounding than before.

“Yeah. Helps to clear the mind. Plus I like to take cold showers before my classes start.”

Lanced eyed him strangely before putting his cup down. “I’ve been meaning to start jogging as well, but I haven’t had the motivation to do so. Do you need a jogging buddy?”

Keith smiled at him. “Sure. Next time I go out I’ll give you a call.”

The two boys sat there in silence for a while, both of them enjoying their coffees. Lance brought out some bread and marmalade, and the two of them ate in peace, Keith looking at his phone and Lance reading a magazine. But Keith noticed that it wasn’t a bad or awkward silence. It was the kind that happens when you don’t necessarily have anything to say to the other person, so you both just enjoy the other’s presence.

“I’ve been thinking.” said Lance, breaking the silence. “It’s fine if my show doesn’t have new music this week, because I totally understand that it’s been a bit weird. But now I have to go back and use an old song, and it just feels strange to me, you know? Every episode has its own unique piece of music, and to go back and choose an old song feels strange to me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Keith said, wiping his face with a napkin. “I’ll write you a new song. I’ll write everyone a new song just in time, don’t worry.” Lance scoffed.

“And how are you gonna do that? It’s Thursday. You’d need to write three new songs in a day, basically.” he said. “I honestly don’t even know where you’d find the time.”

Keith smirked. “You underestimate me, McClain.” Suddenly, the familiar sensation of inspiration rushed through his body, making him jump up from his chair. “I’ll be right back!” he yelled, as he ran out the door of Lance’s apartment, leaving the other boy alone and confused. A minute later Keith came rushing back in, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his guitar on his lap. He moved his fingers quickly over the fretboard, a low yet delicate melody making its way to Lance’s ears. He sat quietly, petrified by the sound of Keith’s fingers nimbly plucking strings on the guitar. He looked in awe as the other boy closed his eyes and just let his fingers do the talking, the sweet melody filling the room with images of valiant kings, stars dancing in the night sky, and the smell of the earth after it rains. When Keith finished, he opened his eyes to see Lance’s dazed expression.

“That was incredible!” Lance said, stumbling over his words. Keith gave him a bright smile and started writing everything down on a sheet of paper before the music escaped from his memory.

“How did you do that?” Lance asked, still awestruck.

“It’s because I had my muse with me.” Keith answered jokingly. Lance turned away, hiding his face in his hands again.

_He’s cute when he does that_ , Keith thought, before a small blush creeped up on his face as well. He finished writing down the music, then got up off the floor.

“Thanks for letting me sleep over. I’m gonna head home and try to find some clean clothes.”

“Why don’t you just borrow some of my clothes today?” said Lance quietly, still not looking at him. “I’ll get you a clean toothbrush and you can get ready here. Anyways, it’s still really early, so afterward we can go and organize some of your boxes.” He finally looked over at Keith and smiled.

_Oh no,_ thought Keith. _He’s pretty._

_What am I doing?_ Thought Lance.

Keith tried to regain his composure. “M-my furniture isn’t here yet. I’m waiting for it to arrive before I organize anything.”

“Oh,” Lance said, eyes sinking to the floor. “Well, we can at least stock up your fridge for now!” he added.

“Actually, that won’t be too much of a problem. I can’t cook, so I’ll be eating out a lot. No use in stocking up my fridge with stuff I can’t make.” At that, Lance’s jaw dropped.

“What do you mean you can’t cook? Like, you don’t even know how to make an omelette?” Keith shook his head sheepishly.

“Growing up, my grandfather always did the cooking, and when I lived with Shiro and Adam they did all the cooking.”

“ _Ay, Dio santo_.” Lance said, shaking his head. “Come on, pretty boy, get dressed so that we can go shopping.

 

A half hour later, the two boys were scrubbed clean and changed, walking through the nearby supermarket at 7:30 in the morning.

“Alright kiddo, we’re going to start with something simple. Have you ever fried an egg?” Lance asked. Keith shook his head in embarrassment.

“Honestly, how would you survive without me?” asked Lance as he put a carton of eggs in the basket.

“Well, I was kind of just hoping to find a boyfriend that can cook, like Adam.” Keith said.

“Keith. You are a strong and independent man that doesn’t need another man. You should _at the very least_ know how to fry an egg and make pasta.” Keith shrugged. Lance just sighed.

When they got back to Lance’s apartment, he put the other boy to work right away.

“See what I’m doing? I’m putting just a little bit of olive oil on the pan before I turn the fire on. Then you crack an egg like so, and voila! Do you want to try cracking the other egg?” It might have been phrased as a question, but Keith knew from Lance’s body language that he really had no choice. He took the egg from Lance and carefully cracked the shell just a little bit on the side of the pan. When he opened it the egg came out, taking only a small piece of shell with it.

“Ok, that could have been worse.” said Lance as he took the shell out of the pan. “But not bad for the first time!” Keith felt triumphant as Lance turned on the stove.

“And now we wait.”

Lance sat down on the kitchen chair. Keith opted to stay standing, observing the eggs.

“How’d you learn to cook?” he asked. Lance scoffed.

“Keith, honey, this isn’t cooking. Making fried eggs is a survival skill.” Keith took his eyes off the eggs just long enough to make eye contact with him.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Lance sighed.

“It was my abuelita. She taught me everything I know.”

“Was?” asked Keith, even though the pain in the other boy’s voice was obvious.

“She died two years ago.” he answered, voice breaking slightly.

“I’m sorry.” said Keith, his voice soft and gentle. Lance smiled sadly but didn’t say anything.

“Let’s see if those eggs are ready, shall we?” he asked as he jumped up from his chair. Keith nodded, glad for the subject change. Lance turned off the stove and put the eggs on a plate, sprinkling them in salt and pepper.

“Ta-da! Now we eat them.” He grabbed a fork and knife for both of them, and the two sat quietly around the plate.

“You know, Keith, these eggs aren’t bad. I say you drop everything and go to Le Cordon Bleu instead.” Lance joked.

“You did all the work. I just cracked an egg badly.” Keith laughed.

“Speaking of uni, what time is it? My classes start at 9:30.” Lance took out his phone.

“It’s already 9:15? Shit!” The two boys scrambled to quickly finish the eggs.

As Lance was putting on his shoes and grabbing his stuff, he turned to Keith. “Why don’t you keep the egg carton? That way next time you’ll make the eggs and I’ll just watch.” Keith grinned and took the eggs before he was ushered out of the apartment by a frantic Lance.

“I’ll see you at the studio today?” Lance shouted, already halfway across the hall.

“Of course!” Keith shouted back. Lance smiled at him from the distance, then turned around and ran down the stairs.

_Guess I’ll go get ready too,_ thought Keith as he made his way back to his own apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes this is a short chapter and it might seem a little unimportant but it is. Also Keith is a disaster gay that can't cook.
> 
> Anyways, my tumblr is @sunflowerhazel if you ever want to stop by!
> 
> Also... y'all are not ready for chapter 6. I haven't actually written it yet but it's all planned out and I think that so far it's of my favorites

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first fanfiction, so feel free to give me constructive criticism. I know this chapter was a little slow, but I needed it to set the scene. I hope you enjoy the story! Also my tumblr url is @peachy-mints as well if you wanna stop by and say hi or send me messages :)


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